Tender loving care
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Real love is given without the desire of reward.
She had big blue eyes. She sat on my lap at the college party in Marquette, Michigan. She told me. “Johnnie, you need tender loving care. You are drunk most of the time. Not sleeping and working yourself to death. Somebody must stop you from running for near death.”
I kissed the blue eyes girl and squeeze her tightly and told her. “Ain’t no reason to save up time. Time is plentiful for the man running to a dead-end. Some people want to live forever and some of us are trying to use up life. No guarantee tomorrow will come.”
She gave me a look of sadness of disappointment. She brought my face close. Her beautiful blue eyes looked at me like a science experience. She told me. “Ain’t no reason to kill yourself with the booze. Woman will come and go. Wars will be forgotten and one day you want to live forever. The foolishness of youth. Old age is a bad thing. One day you will laugh at the foolishness and action of youth.”
I told her. “You are so beautiful. Auburn hair and big blue eyes. You have my two favorite part of a woman. You make me wish to swim forever in those kind and tender blue eyes. To caress your auburn hair and like a siren, ready to steal a man soul.”
Pretty young woman laughed. She asked me. “Do I look like a sea demon? Ready to steal your heart and leave you for dead? Love can be minutes, can be hours. If we are lucky. Maybe a month or year? Johnnie, there is no guarantees except tonight. A foolish woman want to give you T.L.C. Tender loving care is needed for the all of us. We need someone to treat us like we are loved and cared for. Even in a lie.”
I saw the seriousness of her statements in her eyes. I knew when a woman decided what she wanted. Hard to stop the cold wind and a determine woman. I smiled and said okay. She took my Black Velvet whiskey away and took my hand. We left the party holding hands like old lovers.
She took me to the Lake Superior and we sat watching the dancing lake. She held me and she sang songs of love to me. I asked her. “Why mess with a useless man?” She kissed me once. She kissed me twice and whispered. “Your heart is good. Just need some light and hope to feel the warmth of dreams and possibilities. My poet friend. Tonight we wait for the sun. You can buy me breakfast and I hope I show you. Better to love than to play dead.”
Written in 1986/rewritten in 2014